Love letter # 72
And now … calm. The great quietness of aftermath. You and me not talking. Yet still you are the sun. Still you are the evening, the soft relief of closure. And your name is the in breath; the automatic motion of life. I love you without wanting. I want you without requiring. How I wish I could wake up beside you; although of course I won’t. Yet still I give warmth to the cold side of the bed, for there will always be a hearth for you, a light flickering, a room in the corner of the world. We may pay no heed but the gods sigh regardless – because we are the beaten up stars. We are the eternal broken down. Or rather, we were. Now we’re just islands – and the sea is our union. With my love I send you little waves. You might look for jewels in the sand. You may know where they came from. That’s not the point. I once loved you for the echo – now I just love you … now I just love you.
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